Sabotage
by soniabigcheese
Summary: It's Virgil's turn on a routine shipment duty. However, things don't go quite as planned.
1. Chapter 1

**** WARNING, THIS STORY INCLUDES THE - POSSIBLE - DEATH OF A BELOVED CHARACTER****

 **This wasn't supposed to happen. The Hood's POV.**

From a safe distance, The Hood watched and waited. Within a few moments, the great hulk of a craft, Thunderbird 2 appeared and slowly lowered itself onto the tarmac.

 _Perfect, punctual to the letter._

The Hood had been tracking the comings and goings of shipments, trying to figure out where International Rescue would pick up and drop off supplies for their island retreat. Because you simply cannot stay there isolated forever. That simply wasn't possible.

He was also aware that they often changed tactics. Using private jets, other crafts and various drop-off points around the world. But there was always a pattern to their motives. And he believed he'd just cracked it.

Well, obviously, since he was here and Thunderbird 2 was sitting there just across the tarmac.

There was a hiss as the pneumatic landing legs extended, pushing into the ground and raising this green beast upwards. He watched as a module opened up and personnel ran back and forth with metal trolleys, laden with cargo.

All he had to do was to get on board … or as close as possible … just to stow away the tracker. But they were too darned quick. They'd managed to load the module within 10 minutes and Thunderbird 2 launched.

 _Grr, maybe next time, because obviously, they were going to use this place again._

Silently cursing, he made to turn away when he was shoved aside by a burly, well muscled man, running in the opposite direction.

"Hey, watch where you're going," The Hood snarled.

The man barely acknowledged him as he disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

But the Hood's attention was quickly diverted when he heard a massive explosion and a bright flash of light. He turned to see Thunderbird 2 in a ball of flames, descending rapidly.

 _ **"NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOO!"**_

This cannot be happening. This really cannot be happening.

He wanted those Thunderbirds … just not like this.

 **The exchange between John and Virgil prior to the explosion.**

 **Virgil:** I'm approaching the area, I have been cleared, time for pick up  
 **John:** Don't forget those pizzas  
 **Virgil:** As if I'd forget, you've been harping on about them ever since I told you I was on shipment duty.  
 **John:** Well, I just want to remind you, that's all.  
 **Virgil:** Pfft. Anyways, Thunderbird 2 has landed, deploying the module right now.  
 **John:** So, what's the weather like down there?  
 **Virgil:** The weather? Seriously? You've got the most sophisticated technology you could get your hands on up there … and you're asking ME about the weather? Can't you do better than that?  
 **John:** I was bored.  
 **Virgil:** It's dry … but a little bit windy, nothing I can't handle, and we should be loaded up within ten to fifteen minutes and I'll get back. Can't have our Starman starving up there now can we?  
 **John:** Now less of your cheek Virgil  
 **Virgil:** You've been hanging around Parker for too long, adopting that fake British accent of his  
 **John:** It's Cockney Virge, at least get it right the first time.  
 **Virgil:** Oops, and there we go, I just need to sign off the checklist and we'll be done.  
 **John:** Will do. See you when you arrive.  
 **Virgil:** Or you'll be clawing down the doors of the space elevator.  
 **John:** As … if. Oh, there's a bit of turbulence nearby. You might want to….  
 **Virgil:** I know, I know. I'll take a detour and bring your pizzas safely home. _I can't believe I've been demoted to a pizza delivery boy._  
 **John:** I heard that. Just get home safely, okay?  
 **Virgil:** Will do. And here we go, all loaded and signed for. Starting up the launch sequence, will be with you in … five … four … three … two … one … and we're off. Whoa!  
 **John:** Virge? What's wrong?  
 **Virgil:** Nothing, just a little cross wind. I should be …

 _Comms shut off and Virgil's icon vanishes from John's view._

 **John:** Virgil? Virge? come in Virgil.

 _Static._

 **John:** *with a catch in his voice* International Rescue … we … have … a … situation.


	2. Part Two

Burning metal always has the same smell….

Thunderbird Two juddered, before plunging into complete darkness. Everything had shut down, just the way it did in London, with grandma. But this was no magnetic pulse. This was something much more serious.

"Thunderbird Five, do you copy?"

Faint crackling.

"I repeat, Thunderbird Five. Do you …"

He didn't get the chance to finish the sentence as his beloved behemoth careened nose first into the tarmac. Even with his safety harness, his body was pushed forward, before snapping back. His head hit the side of his shoulder torch and he blacked out. But not before this thought passed through his head.

Wow, is that the smell of burning metal?

He'd been familiar with the scent, because he was always there, in the hangar along with Brains, welding, soldering, upgrading his vehicle. His baby.

He was relatively safe in the cockpit. Unless the explosion had buckled the escape hatch. If anything, it would be the intense heat and smoke inhalation that would get to him first.

There had always been a contingency plan put into place, should the worst happen. But it hadn't taken into consideration a detonation INSIDE the craft. Thunderbird Two's outer shell was reinforced, but inside, it was just a framework of struts. There was no need to worry about safety … that had been taken care of on the exterior. And now, it was proving to be Virgil's sarcophagus. His very own metal coffin.

Outside, The Hood was conflicted. He could easily run and leave the son of his most hated enemy to perish.

But something stopped him.

Groaning loudly, he took a deep breath and strode purposefully towards the stricken vehicle. That saboteur, he'd deal with later on. For now, despite his evil tendencies, there was but a minute humane bone in his body…. or was it his conscience? With his mind ticking over … coming up with all kinds of plots, sub plots, schemes and scenarios … time was of the essence. He paused at the door hatch, his hand just inches away from the handle. He hoped that it wasn't electrified … because this was going to be one damned short rescue.

Gritting his teeth, he clamped his fingers around the polished metal … and heaved. At least he didn't feel a surge coursing through his body. That was one blessed relief. The other one would be the wrath of Virgil Tracy, finding an intruder in his craft. Oh well, he'd have to face that bridge when he got there.

Emergency lights flickered on and off, indicating that some of the electrics were working and hadn't shorted out. But even so, it was difficult negotiating around such a vast expanse of space. Many corridors led to dead ends, and once, he almost walked right into the thick of a burning inferno. Quickly, he doubled back and retraced his steps.

It was too dark inside to take pictures and it was very disorienting indeed, even for his quick brain and photographic memory. Finally, he reached the cockpit, just as Virgil was regaining consciousness. Through blurry eyes - and a great deal of blood from a gash at his temple, Virgil just made out the silhouette of The Hood. Bald and sinister looking. He tried to shrink back but the safety harness held him in place.

"Get away!" he tried to yell, but his mouth felt like cotton wool and tasted coppery.

The Hood approached and tried to heave the restraint away. He had to duck, because of a fist heading in his direction.

"Stupid boy," he snarled, as another one swept across.  
"You're not getting this ship," Virgil replied thickly, "nor any of the others."  
"Don't make this hard on yourself … boy."

But the fists kept flying until Virgil's strength gave out … and because he was developing one hell of a headache. So much so, that he almost passed out. It would have been easier for The Hood if that had happened. But nope. The middle son was just as darned stubborn as his father and wouldn't give up without a fight. Unwilling, and unused to using his own hands to hit people - he'd rather leave that up to his thugs - and the fact that he was on his own here, he was forced to take such action. Just to subdue this angry young man.

Gosh darn, did it hurt like hell. What was that boy made of? Concrete? The Hood's hand throbbed, but at least he had the effect he wanted. Virgil slumped unconscious as The Hood managed to release the safety harness and drag the young man to safety. Or at least as far away from the intense heat, further down the vehicle. If only he knew how to raise those struts and dispense of the damaged module …

 _Dammit Jeff Tracy, why couldn't you at least give me this bit of info?_

His arms screamed in pain and his back hurt like the devil, as he hauled Virgil along. In the end, he gave up. Besides, the GDF were en route … and probably the rest of the cavalry … So he had to scarper. But not before muttering to a motionless Virgil Tracy.

"Don't think this is the end…. you owe me for saving your life boy."


End file.
